South Islanders Alex Casey and Tara Ward reflect on their so-called summer break.
Alex Casey: Welcome back to work Tara, how was your summer?
Tara Ward: I’m thrilled to be here and equally as happy to have experienced my first New Zealand winter Christmas, just as Santa always intended. Over the past three weeks here in lovely Ōtepoti Dunedin, I’ve lit the fire, worn my puffer jacket to the beach and made sure the electric blanket was on every single night. Please excuse me one moment while I put another layer on and crank up the heater.
AC: I too am pleased to report from Ōtautahi that the flannel pyjamas are on, as is the heater, as is the television, the latter of which has provided me with the most sunshine I’ve seen all summer (by way of sitting close to the screen while watching Mamma Mia). We tried to escape to Akaroa and experienced howling grey sleet akin to the Scottish Highlands. We went north and got ONE good day in Kaikōura, but were immediately humbled by heavy rain in Havelock, the mussel capital of the world. How have you managed to make a summer for yourself?
TW: The answer is: I haven’t. Rather than rage against the weather machine, I have given myself over to the cool mornings, the chilling winds, the endlessly depressing “the high for tomorrow is 13C” weather updates. In the words of the weather gods: it is what it is. The incessant rain is good for the garden, and who needs sun when you have vitamin D tablets?
AC: Speaking of the garden, my poor veges don’t know their arse from their elbow right now. My teeny tiny tomatoes are scared for their lives, my cucumbers curling and withering, my sunflowers playing their own game of The Masked Singer by keeping their happy wee faces firmly concealed. On the flipside, I’ve now got some surprise mushrooms growing out the back yard thanks to the moist autumnal conditions – another present from Santa.
TW: I did an internet search for “how to make it feel like summer” and one answer was “wear white sneakers”. I don’t have any white sneakers so this is obviously all my fault. Sorry, everyone.
AC: My working theory is that this is the sun getting revenge on me for speaking ill of its rays in my story about tanning last year. Because at this point I’m so pale you truly wouldn’t even know if I was wearing white sneakers or bare feet. At least we’re not alone in this horror – Wellington has had a shitter too and it’s basically been colder for most places across the country.
TW: I’m also loath to complain about lousy weather in the south in case it confirms the misguided stereotype that the south always has terrible weather, which is simply not true. It’s only been shit for the past three weeks, I promise, and that’s clearly because we’re not wearing the correct footwear. Parts of the Te Wai Pounamu have basked in a beautiful summer. I’ve been sent family photos of bright summer days in Central Otago and watched Instagram stories of blue skies and calm seas in Fiordland, with not a rain cloud in sight. I’m thrilled for them. Thrilled, I tell you.
But I am going to momentarily give in to these repressed feelings of rage and disappointment, because it turns out the weather does have a big impact on our mood. Apparently sunlight is “paramount” to our wellbeing and a lack of sunshine “could cause long-lasting feelings of helplessness, fear and fatalism”. Look, I just want a bit of summer during summer. Is that too much to ask of Jim Hickey?
AC: Jim Hickey would surmise that some regions have clearly rocking clean white-on-white sneaks in the South. I’ve also heard from two independent sources that the West Coast apparently put on a summer stunner, as did one “glorious” and “sunny” Wānaka. I know it is uncouth to have a whinge on main, but I am feeling a deep seething jealousy in my soul. You may be cracking cold ones, but here I am onto my third cup of tea and lusting after a hearty warm stew. Speaking of stew, I just Googled “how to get vitamin D without sun” and one of the first answers was eating more mushrooms.
TW: That’s great news, given the surprise crop that’s popped up in your garden. I feel better already. Plus, it seems brighter days are on the horizon, with more settled weather forecast to hit parts of the country that have had a terrible summer so far.
AC: In the words of Annie, the sun will come out tomorrow. Or hopefully the next day. Or maybe in February. Actually, I hear March is looking really good.